Eighteen Candles (you will remember me)

6.

Billie

Flynn is coming back in three days and I will be more than happy to attend the next party with her. Don't get me wrong, I like Mavy, Sara and Layla but they are not Flynn.

There's a difference between your friends and your best friend. Your friends will never know what's up with just a small look, they will never identify, if you're lying or telling the truth and they will never understand the when it is the time to leave a party.

And on Friday it was definitely time to leave after Mindy tried to fight me for cock blocking Blake. Unfortunately Blake didn't want to make out with Mindy anymore after I asked them to find a different spot, because Sara couldn't stand watching them. I don't even know where he went after I walked away from them, neither did I saw Julien until I walked out of the door.

He offered to drive me home, making it more than obvious he drank more than just a couple of drinks. I declined, my father had already offered me to give me a ride, when I told him I'd go to a party that night. I texted Julien the morning after, if he was okay, since he looked almost dead when I left.

"And don't you forget your homework. I want everyone to add something to the conversation on Friday," Miss Miller repeats one more time, her voice drowning in the sounds the students make by leaving the classroom.

I take my bag and swing it over my shoulder. Miss Miller is my biology teacher and I ended up alone in this class, since all of my friends decided to hate biology. I don't know why though, biology is kind of the only subject that's still interests me. Everything else gets just more boring.

"Bill Bill!" the ear hurting voice of Julien McKenna is roaring through my head. "Wait for me!" he adds, running after me. I turn around and spot his perfectly styled red hair first. Julien is wearing the school uniform like everyone else and a brown bag, crossed over his chest. "How comes that you can run so fast, with that little legs of yours?"

I don't laugh about his joke and just roll my eyes. Julien likes to mention that I'm shorter than him. It's not my fault he needs to buy shoes in size 12. "Julien, you seem to be better than on Friday."

"Oh sweetheart, I've never been better than on Friday," Julien says, closing his eyes, and smirks. I push Julien away from me softly as we walk along the hallway. A door bursts open and the familiar face off my old music teacher greets me with a smile.

"Billie. I need to talk to you," she says, widening the door. Julien pats my shoulder brotherly and walks off. I enter the room and close the door, leaving it open just an inch.

Miss Thompson doesn't hesitate and starts with her speech, "I know this must be a sensitive topic for you, Billie, but you can't continue skipping music classes." She sits down on the chair behind her desk and folds her hands, furrowing her brows right at me.

"I didn't sign up for those classes," I tell her. After my mom died two years ago, I've never been interested in anything close to music. Especially singing. I've never touched a microphone again or a pencil to write songtexts.

"Well, I signed you up. You needed a subject to even pass this year and I figured this would be a great opportunity for you to try singing again. Billie you've got a gift and I don't want you to waste it. Your mo-"

"You really shouldn't finish that sentence," I cut her off. I don't want anyone to come up with that one every again. How can anyone know what my mother would have wanted for me and what not. It's disrespectful. I walk towards the slightly opened door again. "It was a pleasure to talk to you again, Miss Thompson. You've always been my favorite teacher, maybe I'll have luck and get you as my teacher some day again," I say and walk out of the room, not even waiting for her response.

I don't know why but my eyes seem to itch all of sudden, my view also blurring. "Hey, Biscuit-"

I walk against Blake's chest, pushing him aside in the movement. I turn my face away from him, moving my hair in front of it. "Hey, Hey, Hey. Biscuit, come back." Blake takes my wrist and pulls me towards him softly. "Are you crying? What happened?"

I pull my wrist out of his grip, already prepared to walk off again but he slips his hand around my waist and pulls me along the hallway, right behind the stairs. "Why was Miss Thompson saying you're skipping classes?" he says, bending down to look my in the eyes.

The black haired boy in front of me reaches out his hand to my face to tuck the strands of hair out of my face behind my ear. I push his hand away from my face. "Were you eavesdropping?" I ask him, leaning against the wall, my arms folded.

Blake does the same across from me plus furrowing his forehead. He looks kind of ... worried? I don't think I've seen that face expression on him towards me before. "Yes, I was. And I'm asking again, why are you skipping classes?"

"Why is everyone so interested in my school life?! Is there a fucking sign on my forehead that suggests everyone to ask me about my absence in sudden classes? I don't want to be there, okay? Why is that so hard to understand?!" I push off the wall I was leaning against and walk away from the spot Blake dragged me to.

Blake keeps calling after me but I just ignore it and keep walking away. There's no universe in what I am having a conversation about the reasons I'm skipping music classes. Blake does know about my mothers death, obviously, but I don't think he would understand any reason about me feeling weird singing without her being around me, or even take it serious.

He'd probably make jokes about me being sensitive all of sudden and he'd probably say something like Biscuit, I didn't even know you have a heart or Since when exactly do you care about sentimental things. And even though we've known each other for eleven years, I'm not even sure he knows I used to sing.

...

School ended 10 minutes ago and I'm still standing right in front of the opened doors, looking straight at my school's parking lot and the pouring rain outside. Everyone already went home, leaving me by myself. Since Flynn isn't here to give me a ride, I decided to take the bus. Well, I missed it and now my plan B was to walk home. Good luck with that, B.

"Damnit!" I murmur and start to plug my hair into my hoodie. I put the hood above my head and note in my mind to thank my father later for forcing me to bring a hoodie to school. I rush down the stairs and try to cover my face with the hood.

I guess owning a car isn't as unnecessary as I thought after all. The rain is wetting all of my clothes. My books are probably already dripping with water as well. Never again, I'm going to believe what my stupid weather app is promising.

I walk along the street, still holding the hood close to my face, even though it's useless since I'm already completely soaked. A car is coming from behind, getting slower and slower until it stops right next to me. The window goes down and the face of a certain annoying boy greets me with a smirk.

"Get inside, Biscuit. You're getting a cold outside," he says through the window.

I walk closer to his car and rest my arms on the opened window. Cockily I say, "I get inside, if you let me drive." I know Blake basically runs a relationship with that car. He would sell his soul to protect it. There's no way he's letting me drive it.

Blake starts to tap his thumb on the steering wheel and moves his gaze along my body. "Biscuit, no one except for me will ever touch this steering wheel and now get in the car. I'm driving you home," he orders. Funny how he thinks, he can order me around.

I raise my brows and put my arms through the window. Wringing out the sleeves of my hoodie above his passenger seat I tell him, "the only time I am sitting in your car is when I am driving it myself. And you, Blake Evans, aren't in a position to give me orders of any kind."

With that I walk away from his car, down the street. I can hear him following me slowly and he keeps following me until we reach my house. He even waits until I get inside.

I don't turn around. I don't want him ordering me to get inside his car another time. I don't know why he followed me home though. Well, he lives in the same street as me but he could have just drive home without following me and since his house is coming before mine he should have stopped two hoses before mine. He didn't though.

Just as I open the door to my house I turn my head in his direction. Through the pouring rain I discern the lights of his car turning on and off two times before he turns around and drives to his house.